


Moving Forward

by illyriantremors



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:10:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyriantremors/pseuds/illyriantremors
Summary: Feyre is home alone and takes the day to spend some time appreciating how far she's come, both body and mind. When Rhys catches her admiring herself nearly naked in the mirror of their bedroom, he decides to show some appreciation of his own. Shameless smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt: "On her day off Feyre spends the whole day walking around and spending the whole day in some lingerie in the townhouse, because she loves how it hugs her curves and makes her feel powerful. And then Rhys unexpectedly comes home halfway through the day and watches her in stunned silence for 5 minutes before Feyre realizes he's standing there with his mouth wide open."

Rhys wasn’t there when I woke up in the morning. Something about some nonsense with Cassian that had to be attended to, which was fine by me. We had been out late at Rita’s and I was grateful to sleep in.

I rolled lazily out of bed and went through the morning routine, taking a shower after breakfast. Wiping the steam away from the mirror, I stood back and stared at myself in the glassy surface.

Gone was the girl who had cracked Under the Mountain. Gone was the girl who had nearly starved to death during her nightmares in the Spring Court. The woman now before me looked full and healthy.

I sighed, offering myself an appreciative smile. I’d come a long way.

Taking advantage of the surge in my self-confidence, I let myself stay in front of the mirror preening in my nakedness. I dried my hair and took time to style it in a soft, flowing wave that fell down my back. And when that was done, I applied some kohl to my eyes and a soft pink tint to my lips, feeling pleased with my handiwork when I was done.

“I look _good_ ,” I said to myself, but I wasn’t finished.

With Rhys gone for the day, I decided to dress up for myself a bit. I went through nearly every outfit in my closet trying them on and spending some time focusing on what I liked about myself in each of them before turning to the next.

When I came to the lingerie drawer, however, I forgot about the rest of my wardrobe.

There was just something about being naked or nearly there that was satisfying. I never told Rhys, but every now and then if I felt myself hitting a low, I’d lock myself in a room with a mirror and find things to like about myself until the negative thoughts were erased. Being fae made my body naturally refined, but sometimes reminding myself that I was strong helped chase some of my other mental demons away too.

And I was strong. Looking in the mirror of my bedroom, I wore a red lace set of lingerie that left little to the imagination. The panties sat low on my hips, a thin string running up my rear behind me, and the bra covered my breasts loosely without an underwire or any padding so that my nipples peaked through the lace.

It was sexy, but I made my eyes look past the fabric at the way my hips were well rounded, not starved. My breasts were full now and my chest wasn’t shrunken enough to count my ribs. I made a half turn to look at my backside and there was rear enough there to grab it if I wanted to in place of a flat hollowness and when I flexed, I could see my back ripple beneath my hair with taut muscles from months of training.

My body had blossomed in the Night Court under the tutelage of food, friends, and family. And I liked it.

I giggled as I slipped into a pair of shining red heels I’d set next to the mirror feeling vixenous. My legs ran for days in them.

Smiling down at myself, I heard a low, long whistle behind me and I practically jumped out of my heels to find Rhysand staring at me. He leaned against the doorway with his hands casually in his pockets, a feline smirk on his face as his eyes drank me like a deep glass of bourbon burning in his throat.

“Playing dress up?” he asked amused.

I gave him a vicious stare. “Maybe I am. Why, you see something you like?”

He pushed off the doorjamb and sauntered up to stand behind me. His hands slid down my arms to entwine with my fingers. “There are many things I like that I see.” He pressed a kiss to my neck and a chill broke out over my skin.

Rhys looked up, his chin resting on my shoulder and together we stared at each other in the mirror. “But really, what are you doing? I stood there for a good five minutes and you wouldn’t stop staring at yourself. I thought you told me once only I was capable of being that ridiculously narcissistic.”

“You are,” I teased, “but I just…” I sighed and gave a squeeze on his hands. “I guess it’s just nice to finally look at myself and not see the me I used to be before anything else.”

“Feyre,” he said, his voice suddenly deadly serious. I could feel how hurt he was down the bond that I ever still had to feel that way sometimes, but the scars were there.

“Really,” I insisted trying to send some kind of reassurance between us. “I used to look in the mirror and it would take actual mental effort to remind myself I wasn’t seeing a ghost or a skeleton staring back, that my skin and muscles weren’t a cruel fae trick. Now when I look in the mirror, I just see me and _I kind of like what I see_.”

Warm affection sprawled out between us as Rhys stroked the bond the way one would play a slow melody on a violin. I leaned my head back to look at him as much as I could. “I have you to thank for part of that, you know.”

Rhys smiled, but protested. “You got yourself out in the end. The rest of us merely watched with added encouragement here and there. You were always more than enough even if you didn’t always believe me.”

“Still, I can remember you being useful a time or two.” My gaze lowered to his lips and I gave him a soft, lingering kiss.

“Oh?” he said against me. “Do tell.” And I couldn’t resist teasing the intrigue washing over the bond, not when I was in such a perfectly good pair of lingerie.

“I seem to recall something about a throne,” I murmured against his lips, kissing him again. He purred in response. “And a cabin…” His lips tore from me to kiss across my cheek and chin. “And a rooftop… Then there was something to do with an inn and, _oh…”  
_

His lips went over my ear sucking the starving moan out of me. Our hands continued to squeeze together at my waist and when I pushed my body into him, I felt a hardness at his crotch pulsing against me.

Instantly I wanted him and tried to swivel around so I could shove him hard onto the bed and put my mouth on him, get that pretty pink lipstick I wore in the most inappropriate places. But my mate had other ideas.

His hand shot to my throat just under my chin and held me carefully so as not to hurt, but the grip was forceful enough that I couldn’t spin around. His forefinger crossed slowly over my chin teasing me.

“Since you like looking at yourself so much,” he said staring at me in the mirror, “allow me.”

Our still entwined hands broke apart. Rhys pressed it flat to my stomach now rife with muscle from training, bringing me closer to him. If there was any part of me that hadn’t noticed his hardness against my back, I certainly felt it now.

But it was the other, dominant hand that distracted me, running down my stomach and stopping right at the hemline of the thong I was wearing where Rhys rubbed a tormenting touch with his thumb across my skin.

“I seem to remember something about an inn too, Feyre darling,” Rhys crooned in my ear. He ran his teeth over my neck making my back arch, but that hand on my stomach roped me back in quickly. “Funny, though.”

I wanted so badly to ignore him, but the heat bundling up just below where I wanted that damn hand of his to go was rapidly becoming unbearable and I ground out, “What’s funny?”

I watched Rhysand smirk at me through the mirror.

“Only that I don’t seem recall the finer details of how that night ended.” Cauldron, he boiled my blood at that. “Do you?” His thumb applied additional pressure with the next stroke and I thought I might have to smack him or risk exploding.

“You prick,” I said, grinding my hips against him, making sure to rub against his cock.

“Oh so you do remember something.”

Down the bond, wicked amusement flared and I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Cauldron’s sake, Rhysand,” I practically screamed. _“Please.”_

“That’s better,” he growled and the feral beast sprang out of him.

His hand dipped below the hemline _finally_ and shoved what little of the thong there was out of the way so that his fingers could stroke me. He brought portions of my wetness up with his fingers to circle my clit while his other hand moved north to my breasts.

“I seem to remember these that night as well,” he said feeling my chest up. My head tilted back and my eyes started to close, but my mate’s aggressive nip on my ear snapped them back open wide. “Ah-ah,” he admonished. “Keep them open. Unlike that night, I want you to see yourself come for me.”

He tore into me, his lips kissing furiously against my skin wherever he could reach as I writhed against him, making the hand at my crotch stroke on my clit faster and faster. I couldn’t stand it. I wanted him to go lower, to give in completely, but I knew he wouldn’t until I begged, just like that night.

So I grabbed the other hand palming my breasts and shoved it down to meet the other, feeling a spark of heat flare down the bond. _Greedy, are we?_ he asked.

_I was that night too_ , I replied. _You have two hands. Use them._

Mercifully, he obliged as I felt two of his fingers slip inside of me. My hands reached up to grab a hold of whatever I could find and together we watched one another in the mirror, torturing and tormenting ourselves as Rhys raised my fever higher.

_You’re exquisite_ , he told me. _Look at you - just, look at you._

So I did and even though it might have seemed a bit shallow to anyone else, I was pleased with myself. My arms weren’t boney anymore and my stomach was flat from training, not throwing up. And my legs were strong squeezing around Rhys as his hands dug in to me.

_You forgot the best part_.

I glanced up at him in the mirror and saw the mask of lust slip temporarily into one of adoration. His gaze did leave the mirror then and looked at me - at my _face_ , which was now full instead of haunted and gaunt as it had once been.

_Feyre, sing for me._

His fingers flexed inside me with a hard push and it was too much. All of it was too, too much. The confidence. The power. His unconditional worship. And those damned Cauldron-blessed High Lord’s hands pumping between my thighs.

_Sing for me, please. I want to hear you sing._

My lips parted and a cry pierced the air as I moaned aloud his name, his darkness, his everything as I broke on his fingers and my body shuddered for him. My eyes were allowed to close and I felt Rhysand pull my body into him, catching me from the fall. He applied soothing kisses along my skin to guide me through it, but when I was done, I needed more of him and forced him to let me turn in his arms, something that definitely hadn’t happened that night at the inn.

“Thank you,” I panted and Rhys looked at me in surprise.

“For what exactly?”

“For everything, you stupid prick. You deserve more credit than you’re willing to give yourself.”

He brought his hands up to my face to hold me still and kissed me for a long while. “You’re very welcome, Feyre.” His eyes were glossy. He looked almost wistful, like the past was too much for him to bear as well sometimes.

With a breathe, I scented myself on the stickiness of his hand and pulled it to my lips where I sucked the cum off his fingers. Rhysand whistled. “You did it the last time,” I said when I’d gotten all of it off him. “So really, it was only fair.”

“I’ll show you _fair_ , darling.”

He picked me up and tossed me on the bed and I made sure to get that pink lipstick _everywhere_.

xx


End file.
